


A Watcher by Any Other Name

by round_robin



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Ascension, Crossover, Gen, Pre-Supernatural (TV), Purgatory, Research, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 10:25:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17723402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin
Summary: Sprawled across the living room floor, half tucked into sleeping bags, were two of the largest boys Giles had ever seen. Their soft faces betrayed their true age, though. “Bobby,” Giles whispered. “My goodness, aren't they a little young to hunt?”Bobby glared at him and slid the door closed. “You are the last person to lecture anyone on too young. How old's your girl? Seventeen?”





	A Watcher by Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> I'm watching Supernatural with my fiance and Bobby is his favorite character. He also likes Buffy, and kept bugging me to do a crossover fic where Giles and Bobby meet. Well, here it is. I know those worlds don't mesh together 100%, I tried to play it off as "the Hellmouth makes things real weird."
> 
> Set in Buffy season 3-ish, so it's 1998-1999-ish. Buffy is eighteen, Sam is fifteen, Dean is nineteen/twenty. I didn't do exact math on birthdays. If you find a typo, please include it in a comment and it'll be taken care of. Enjoy!

After nearly eight hours on a plane, Buffy's grumbling still filled his ears.

“Are you serious, Giles? You're leaving right in the middle of peak apocalypse season!”

“Yeah,” Xander chipped in as he poked through the pile of provisions Giles was trying to pack. “You can't leave us unsupervised. What if we start playing with matches or... I can't think of anything else I'd do unsupervised. I'll probably just watch TV while you're gone.”

Giles tried not to tut under his breath or roll his eyes. “Wesley is here, should anything dire come up. And given the paranormal activity these past few weeks, we're due for a lull, which makes this the perfect time for me to—”

“Abandon your Slayer? It's not just my sacred duty, Giles, it's yours too. Or is that just what you say to make me pay attention in training?”

“I have to agree,” Wesley said. This time Giles did roll his eyes. The last thing he needed was Wesley getting involved in his business. “Buffy is right, we cannot let our guard down or spread our resources too thin, not while evil is still nipping at our heels.”

“Yes, which is why I'm going. To _gather_ resources. There's a book I need in Sioux Falls. I'll only be gone two days.”

“And there's no post office in Sioux Falls? They can't mail it to you?” Buffy asked.

“Actually,” Willow said from behind the stack of books she was supposed to be putting into Giles' bag. She was reading them instead. “Sioux Falls is very small, and most of South Dakota is pretty remote. The nearest post office might be way out of the way.”

“More out of the way than Giles flying halfway across the country?” Buffy said.

“Will, how you do know so much about South Dakota?” Xander asked.

Willow sighed. “Some of us pay attention in class.”

They all continued bickering long enough for Giles to finish packing his bag. He zipped it closed and cleared his throat, getting their attention again. “I'm leaving now to catch my flight. I'll be back in two days. There is a very large collection of occult books in Sioux Falls, owned by a very learned man. With all that's happening...” Faith, the Mayor, just... all of it. “We need an outside perspective. At the end of the day, the Council can only do so much. I trust this man, he has one of the greatest collections of occult literature on this side of the Atlantic, more importantly, he has a text that may help us. I already checked with the Council,” he said before Wesley could interrupt, “they said they needed a week to search the archives. Now I'd rather take two days and return with the text in my hand.”

No one said anything for a moment and Giles nodded to himself. At last, they saw sense.

Willow was correct, though, Sioux Falls was very small and remote. After landing at Sioux Falls Regional Airport, he rented a car—he had his choice of two dingy Ford Focuses with identical dents on the passenger side door—and followed the directions to Bobby Singer's house.

He'd only been there once, many years ago, but it all looked the same. Same leaning house surrounded by a junkyard, same rusty gate, same vaguely threatening NO TRESPASSING signs _._ Giles briefly wondered if Bobby actually sold scrap or just collected it as a cover. He took care to park the car where he'd be able to find it again (as the junk yard contained no less than three old Ford Focuses with similar dents) and walked around to the front door.

There was a small paper sign taped to the door and Giles frowned at it. One word with an arrow underneath it: KITCHEN. Bobby hadn't mentioned anything amiss with his front door and Giles was immediately on guard. Bobby was no Watcher, and he had no Slayer to guard, but his life was filled with danger enough to rival Giles' own.

He walked around to the kitchen and knocked. The door opened right away. “Hey, Ripper, c'mon in.” Bobby said. Ever since Giles told him of his school nickname, Bobby refused to call him anything else. “Makes you sound more like a hunter,” he always said.

Giles entered the kitchen and smiled when he saw a pot of tea waiting for him on the table. Bobby might look rough, but he did know how to greet a friend after a long trip. “Sorry about the re-direct.” Bobby placed two mugs on the table then walked over to the pocket door to the living room, opening it a crack. “A hunter friend sent his boys to do some research before they take a shot at whatever it is they're tracking. I like to let 'em sleep when they first get in.”

Sprawled across the living room floor, half tucked into sleeping bags, were two of the largest boys Giles had ever seen. Their soft faces betrayed their true age, though. “Bobby,” Giles whispered. “My goodness, aren't they a little young to hunt?”

Bobby glared at him and slid the door closed. “You are the last person to lecture anyone on _too young_. How old's your girl? Seventeen?”

Giles bristled at Bobby's tone. “Just turned eighteen, as a mater of fact.”

“Well good on you for gettin' her that far. Sam's fifteen, and yeah, he's a little young, but he's been doing this his whole life, he knows the score. And Dean's just shy of twenty. He's an adult. This is his choice now. Did the Slayer ever get a choice? Did she even know the score before one of you Watchers dropped in on her and gave her the job? These boys have been in it their whole lives, they know more than most about what goes bump in the night, and they're some of the best hunters out there. Super strength or not.”

Giles didn't answer. They'd had this particular argument before and it always went around in circles. The truth was, neither of them liked how the youth of the world was thrust into a never ending battle, and they knew they were powerless to stop it, the best they could do was offer the support and expertise they had and hope it was enough.

“I got your book right here.” The argument drained from Bobby's voice. He walked across the kitchen to a small bookshelf that, in any normal house, would contain cookbooks and recipes. Here, it held old, weathered journals saved from one fire or another, all filled with the horrors of the world and how to combat them.

“Ascension's a tricky son of a bitch. Wasn't sure I even had anything, but a friend of mine heard of one and sent me this.” He handed the book over.

Giles placed his bag on the floor and lowered himself into a chair, eyes transfixed on the book in his hands. He ran his fingers over the cover, removing some of the dust, then carefully opened it to find _Pastor Desmond Kane_ written in a neat hand. Gently, he leafed through the old, thin pages. “You'll have to go through it yourself, but my friend says it mentions ascension,” Bobby said.

“Thank you.” Giles closed the book and carefully placed it in his bag. “I brought, uh, some of my books for you.”

“Rip, we don't need to trade. You got a problem, I might have info, that's how it works. No need to pay me back.”

“Yes, I understand. However, I found a few texts during my annual inventory. The Hellmouth has its own sorts of challenges, and I haven't had much need for the more run of the mill texts in my collection.”

Bobby looked through the three slim volumes Giles laid out in front of him. A Japanese encyclopedia of ghosts, an overview of Egyptian gods, and a book filled with protection sigils and spells. “You seriously tellin' me you won't use any of this?” A small gold mine sat on the table and here Giles was trying to tell him it was all useless to a Slayer.

“Believe it or not, Buffy does not encounter many Egyptian gods or Japanese ghosts. I would hope no one does, but you and your lot seem to encounter... interesting creatures.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Had a hunter call me about a Shojo last month. Do you know how hard it is to get a samurai sword blessed in Wisconsin?” He stacked the books together and placed them safely on the kitchen shelf to be correctly filed later. “Thanks, Ripper, I appreciate it.”

“And I appreciate your assistance. With any luck, we'll stop this.”

They both fell silent for a moment, letting the gravity of the world settle around them. “You know,” Bobby said, “that Hellmouth of yours sure makes for an interesting life. The stuff you tell me about... it's nothin' I've ever seen before.”

“Do you know any hunters in Cleveland? Supposedly, there's another Hellmouth there.”

Bobby thought back to the few jobs he'd done in Cleveland... “Makes sense.”

There was a groan from the other room and the pocket door slid open. Dean Winchester, still wearing his t-shirt and jeans to sleep, rubbed at tired eyes. “Hey Bobby...” Dean opened his eyes and straightened up when he saw a stranger in the kitchen. While he didn't immediately go into a fighting stance, his fist clenched and his posture changed. Bobby had to shake his head at that. John sure did make those boys wary of everything and everyone.

“Dean, this is an old friend of mine, Ripper, he runs a small crew of hunters down in Southern California. He came by to get a book.”

“Oh.” Dean relaxed a little. While John didn't like other hunters (and taught the boys the same) Dean knew, if Bobby let someone into his house, they were pretty solid, and definitely not possessed. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes, same here.”

“Huh, I didn't know there were British hunters.” Dean looked around the kitchen and frowned when he didn't see anything for breakfast. “Hey Bobby, is there coffee? Or food?”

“There is if you make it.” He took a sip of his tea and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” Dean turned around and opened the door a little wider. “Hey Sammy, you want some eggs?”

“Yes,” came the muffled reply from the dark living room.

The boys milled around them for the next hour or so as Bobby and Giles caught up. The whole deal with the Council, Buffy's test on her eighteenth birthday, the general existence of Wesley. Bobby shook his head and poured Giles another cup of tea. “I don't know how you stand it. Gettin' bossed around by someone half a world away. Especially after they put your girl in danger like that? I do not envy you for a second.”

“Yes, well, since the Council relieved me of my duties, I am technically not taking their orders anymore. I guess that makes me a bit like you.” Giles paused for a moment to think about Bobby's life, or what he'd heard of it. Researching for others, gathering useful information for the future, occasional field work... it didn't sound all too bad.

Bobby laughed at the suggestion. “Oh yeah, exactly like me. I think I got a spare hat you can borrow.”

Giles chuckled as well. “Oh yes, another thing to borrow from you.” He finished his tea and stood up, gathering his bag. “I'd better be off. I have to find a hotel for the night. My flight leaves early tomorrow morning.”

“Hotel? Nah, you can stay here, everyone does.” He nodded towards the ceiling. “I have an actual guest room. The boys just like to be ready to go at a moment's notice and camp out down here. It's no trouble.”

“That's very kind.” The trip and the time change were wearing at Giles, and the idea of driving around Sioux Falls was unappealing. “I'll take you up on it, then, thank you.”

Bobby showed him the room and Giles put his bag down. He only meant to sit on the bed for a moment, but before he knew it, he was dead asleep. The next morning, he came downstairs to find the boys with their heads buried in Bobby's library. Another cup of tea and a few pieces of toast met him. Giles thanked Bobby for his hospitality and headed out.

“If you should ever need anything,” Giles said. “Do not hesitate to call.”

Bobby tipped his hat. “I'll do that. Good luck with your ascension.”

Giles returned to Sunnydale, book in hand. Any mention of ascension was good, however, this particular diary was a little too vague. As they worked and fought their hardest to prepare, in the back of Giles' mind, the small, dimly comforting thought of Bobby Singer did help in their darkest moments. Giles could only hope that, if they failed, Bobby knew enough to stop whatever came next.

 

~

 

Years Later...

 

“That's it, I'm out.” Dean crossed off the last name on his list and leaned back in the chair, covering his face with his hands for a moment. He'd made like a hundred calls today and not one of them helped. Apparently, there were no hunters out there who knew anything about Purgatory, or what to do if its residents were suddenly walking around dressed like an angel. They hadn't even started on how to stop Castiel in his hopped up mega super powered state. They were up a creek without a paddle, and this creek seemed to be the River Styx.

“Already?” Bobby peered over at Dean's list, every name crossed off. He frowned. “I'll see if I can find more address books, but I think that's my last one.”

He moved to go search the back bedroom again when Dean stopped him. “Hey, what about that British guy who was here? Ripper? Something like that? You said he had a crew, have we called him already?”

Bobby shook his head. “Nah, he got out of the game years ago. The last thing he needs is us dragging him back in.”

“Yeah, true.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. They needed all the help they could get, but man, someone who got out... he knew first hand they should be allowed to stay out. “Okay, I'll go through the books again.”

Later that night, Dean snored softly, sacked out on the couch in front of the window. Bobby went through _Realms and Dimensions_ again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the stack of address books sitting on the desk. With a sigh, he grabbed the one with Giles' number in it. After a quick time calculation (it was late here, early in England) Bobby decided it wasn't too rude to call.

The line rang and rang, and for a second, Bobby thought the number was out of date. “Rupert Giles,” a voice answered.

“Hey Rip, it's Bobby Singer, sorry to call so early. I'm in a bit of a pickle here, wondering if you might have information.”

“I'm always up around this time. It's late for you, though, isn't it?”

Bobby chuckled. “Work is never done out here.”

“Oh yes, I remember. What do you need?”

Bobby gave Giles the rundown, or, the brief transatlantic telephone call version. Giles listened quietly, making soft, thinking noises every once in a while. “Purgatory?” he said when Bobby finally finished. “That's... that is a new one to me.”

“Same here.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “You know, I remember when I had the quiet life. A vampire nest here, a haunting there. You were the one with the semi-annual apocalypse rotation, and now I'm stuck with it.”

“It seem so, yes.”

“Look, I know you're retired an' all, but if you can find me anything, I'd appreciate it. I'm not askin' you to come back in, just point me in a direction.”

“Of course. I'll take a look at my resources and call you back in a few hours.”

“Thanks, Rip, talk to you soon.”

He hung up the phone and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes for a moment. For the first time, Bobby found himself wondering, if someone offered him Giles' life, would he take it? Sure, it was hard at first, but retirement without death? That was more than most hunters got.

Dean let out a loud snore and Bobby smiled despite himself. He thought about the Slayer, chosen at random, saddled with a burden she shouldn't have to carry...

Maybe he was a Watcher after all.

 

The End

 

**Author's Note:**

> I actually spent like ten minutes figuring out how long it would take Giles to drive to South Dakota from California. I had a whole scene where Bobby made fun of Giles' car. Then I remember that planes existed in 1998, and the only reason there are no planes in Supernatural is because Dean is afraid of flying.


End file.
